Georgeanne shrugged. “A girl can hope. And besides, I’m not convinced John will really want to be a part of Lexie’s life forever. I can’t help but think that sooner or later he’ll get tired of being a daddy. I just hope it happens sooner than later, because if he abandons her after she’s come to care for him, it will break her heart. You know how protective I am, and of course, something like that would bring out my bad temper. I’d naturally feel compelled to retaliate.”
Mae considered Georgeanne one of the genuinely nicest women she knew, except when she lost her temper. “What would you do?”
“Well, the thought of putting termites in his houseboat does hold a certain appeal.”
Mae shook her head. She was fiercely loyal to both mother and daughter, and she considered them her family. “Too slow.”
“Running him down with my car?”
“You’re getting warmer.”
“Drive-by shooting?”
Mae smiled, but dropped the subject as Lexie walked toward them, dragging her kite behind her. The little girl collapsed on the ground at her mother’s feet, the hem of her denim sundress riding up to her Pocahontas underwear. Clumps of grass were stuck to her clear jelly sandals.
“I can’t run no more,” she gasped. For a change, her face was clean of cosmetics.
“You did a real good job, precious darlin‘,” Georgeanne praised. “Would you like a juice box?”
“No. Will you run with me and help get my kite in the air?”
“We’ve talked about this. You know I can’t run.”
“I know,” Lexie sighed, and sat up. “It hurts your boobs and it’s tacky.” She shoved her hat back on her head and looked up at Mae. “Can you help me?”
“I would, but I don’t wear a bra.”
“Why not?” Lexie wanted to know. “Mommy does.”
“Well, Mommy needs to, but Aunt Mae doesn’t.” She studied the little girl for a brief moment, then asked, “Where’s all the goop you usually wear on your face?”
Lexie rolled her eyes. “It’s not goop. It’s my makeup, and Mommy told me that I could have a Kitten Surprise if I didn’t wear it today.”
“I told you I’d buy you a real kitten if you didn’t wear it at all. You’re too young to be a slave to Max Factor.”
“Mommy says I can’t have a kitty or a dog or nothin‘.”
“That’s right,” Georgeanne said, and looked at Mae. “Lexie isn’t old enough for the responsibility of a pet, and I don’t want the burden. Let’s drop this subject before Lexie gets started on it.” Georgeanne paused, then lowered her voice. “I think she might finally be over her fixation with my having a… well, you know.”
Yes, Mae knew, and she thought Georgeanne was wise not to say it out loud and remind Lexie. For about the last six months, Lexie had been preoccupied with the notion that Georgeanne should provide her with a little brother or sister. She’d driven everyone nuts, and Mae was relieved she wouldn’t have to hear about babies anymore. The kid already had a long-standing obsession with owning a pet and had been a certified hypochondriac since birth, which was one hundred percent Georgeanne’s fault since she’d always made a big deal out of every little scratch and scrape.
Mae reached for her tea, raised it halfway to her lips, then set it back down. Walking toward her were two very big, very athletic men. She recognized the man wearing a white collarless shirt tucked inside faded jeans as John Kowalsky. The other man, who was slightly shorter with less bulk, she’d never seen before.
Big, strong men had always intimidated Mae, and not just because she was five one and weighed one hundred five pounds either. Her stomach took a tumble, and she figured that if she was this nervous, then Georgeanne was close to a complete wig-out. She glanced at her friend and saw the anxiety in her eyes.
“Lexie, get up and wipe the grass from your dress,” Georgeanne said slowly. Her hand shook as she reached down and helped her daughter to her feet.
Mae had seen Georgeanne nervous many times, but she hadn’t seen her this bad for several years. “Are you going to be okay?” she whispered.
Georgeanne nodded, and Mae watched as she pasted a smile on her face and flipped on her hostess switch. “Hello, John,” Georgeanne said as the two men approached. “I hope you didn’t have trouble finding us.”
“No,” he answered, stopping directly in front of them. “No trouble.” His eyes were covered by a pair of expensive dark sunglasses. His lips were set in a straight line, and for several awkward seconds, the two just stared at each other. Then Georgeanne abruptly turned her attention to the other man, whom Mae estimated to be around six feet tall. “You must be a friend of John’s.”
“Hugh Miner.” He smiled and stuck out his hand.
While Georgeanne took his hand in both of hers, Mae studied Hugh. With one cursory glance, she determined that his smile was too pleasant for a man with such intense hazel eyes. He was too big, too handsome, and his neck was too thick. She didn’t like him.
“I’m so glad you were able to join us today,” Georgeanne said as she let go of Hugh’s hand, then she introduced the two men to Mae.
John and Hugh said hello at the same time. Mae, who wasn’t as good at hiding her feelings as Georgeanne, managed a smile, sort of. It was really more of a lip twitch.
“This is Mr. Miner, and you remember Mr. Kowalsky, don’t you, Lexie?” Georgeanne inquired, continuing with the introductions.
“Yes. Hello.”
“Hi, Lexie. How have you been?” John asked.
“Well,” Lexie began on a dramatic sigh, “yesterday I stubbed my toe on the front porch at our house, and I hit my elbow really hard on the table, but I’m better now.”
John shoved his hands up to his knuckles into the front pockets of his jeans. He looked down at Lexie and wondered what fathers said to little girls who stubbed their toes and hit their elbows. “I’m glad to hear you’re better,” was all he could come up with. He couldn’t think of anything else, and so he just stared. He indulged himself and watched her as he’d wanted to since he’d first realized she was his child. He looked into her face, without layers of lipstick and eye shadow, really seeing her for the first time. He saw tiny brown freckles dusting her small, straight nose. Her skin looked as smooth as cream, and her plump cheeks were pink as if she’d been running. Her lips were pouty like Georgeanne’s, but her eyes were his, from the color to the lashes he’d inherited from his mother.
“I have a kite,” she told him.
Her dark brown hair fell in curls from beneath a denim hat with a big sunflower sewn on it. “Oh? That’s good,” he uttered, wondering what in the hell was the matter with him. He signed trading cards for kids all the time. Some of his team members brought their children to practices, and he’d never had any trouble talking to them. But for some reason, he couldn’t think of anything to say to his own child.
“Well, it’s a lovely day for a picnic,” Georgeanne said, and Lexie turned away. “We’ve put together a little lunch. I hope you gentlemen are hungry.”
“I’m starved,” Hugh confessed.
“What about you, John?”
As Lexie walked toward her mother, John noticed grass stains on the back of her denim dress. “What about me?” he asked, and looked up.
Georgeanne walk around to the opposite side of the table and looked over at him. “Are you hungry?”
“No.”
“Would you like a glass of iced tea?”
“No. No tea.”
“Fine,” Georgeanne said, her smile faltering. “Lexie, will you hand Mae and Hugh a plate while I pour the tea?”
His answer obviously irritated Georgeanne, but he didn’t particularly care. He felt the same as when he had pregame jitters. Lexie scared the holy shit right out of him and he didn’t know why.
In his life, he’d faced some of the toughest enforcers the NHL had thrown at him. He’d had his wrist and ankle broken, his clavicle snapped like a twig twice, and he’d had five stitches in his left eyebrow, six on the right side of his head, and fourteen to the inside of his mouth. And those were just the injuries he could recall at the moment. After recovering from each incident, he’d grabbed his stick and had skated back out onto the ice, unafraid.